


Lines Of Us

by armyofangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fanfic, Fanfiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armyofangels/pseuds/armyofangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to write a book. Something real. Something... different."</p><p>"Well I'm real and different."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

Dean's POV

“You have an hour to get these crates on the truck. I will be back to inspect, we have the new owner stopping by with his son. He said that he needed to discuss some matters with me.”

 

I smiled- hoping it involved a pay raise or something to do with money. 

 

Riverbend Estates and the vineyards felt like a permanent place for me. I loved the endless fields of grape trees and the dirt roads and the simplicity of my small hut I stayed in and the beautiful blue sky that seemed endless on the days I worked outside. Crating grapes wasn’t at all a noble job, but it gave me something to do, and money to send home to my dad and brother. My brother had to get to college somehow, and I knew the path I was taking in life before wasn’t a road I wanted my family watch me go down. I wanted to see my brother, at least, flourish in life. 

 

I huff and begin again, stacking large crates onto a flatbed truck. 

 

“You seem determined.” Charlie said, cracking a smile from behind a tower of grapes.

 

“I want to get this done just in case the new owner comes down.” I mumble, using all my strength to pick up a single 200 pound crate. The wooden handles always caused me to get blisters and my hands are constantly rough to the touch. 

 

“Well I would love to see him try to fire Dean Winchester. The only guy who gets shit done around here.” She says, her short red hair falling in her face as she looked down at a clipboard. She was in charge of inventory and on slow days, we stayed inside the small warehouse and talked about what we’d really like to be doing. She wanted to be a chemical engineer or a professional larper. She said on a weekend I get off, she wanted to take me larping. It sounded weird- but something I’d secretly like. 

 

Time drones on and Charlie talks my ears off about her new girlfriend who seems very high maintenance and I just nod, smile, and laugh if she tries to be witty. Charlie was one of a kind and sort of my best friend. She knew the most about me. She knew how to talk to me without me feeling as she pitied me. 

 

The door to the warehouse swings open and three men stand in the shadow of the doorway. It’s almost like something you see in one of those awful comedy-action movies. Our manager- Kevin- walks in with a tall suited man with speckled salt and pepper hair and a shorter guy with messy brown hair and a button up on. 

 

“Mr. Novak, this is Dean Winchester, our most loyal and hardworking employee,” Kevin begins, as I extended my dry hand towards the man. He shook it firmly, as did I back. “And this is Charlie Bradbury, our smartest girl here at Riverbend.” 

 

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Chance Novak and this is my son-”

 

“Castiel Novak!” Charlie exclaims, her eyes widened towards the man. He finally stepped away from behind Kevin, where I could see him clearly. He was terribly cute, blue eyes and unruly hair. 

“Yeah, you must know him from his books.” Mr. Benize indicated. 

 

“His books?” I butt in, extending my neck to show my confusion. 

 

“I’m a novelist, Dean Winchester. I write books. Have you read one?” 

 

As soon as he said it, I looked at him with even more confusion. I tried to process why this attractive guy was questioning my intelligence. A dick move for someone you’ve just met. 

 

“I’m more of a movie guy.” I reply sarcastically, trying to banter back at him and maybe make him believe I was this idiot he wanted to make me out to be.

 

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

 

I let out a throaty laugh, and turn my back to the group of men. I grabbed another crate, stacking it on the truck. I heard silence behind me for a minute.

 

“Well Mr. Winchester and Ms. Bradbury, Kevin tells me you are both hardworking and determined. I can’t wait work with you two. Sadly, I have work overseas for a couple months and I am leaving my son here to keep a close eye on the place.”

 

Castiel nods, giving us this almost devilish smile. I grow unsure of the whole thing right off the bat. But I don’t say anything because Mr. Novelist may fire me exactly where I stand. 

 

“Great.” Is all I hear, glancing up at Charlie who smiles brightly. She looks enchanted by Castiel, like he put her under some sort of spell. I mean, sure he was handsome, but she's very gay and he couldn’t offer her much. She couldn’t keep her striking grey eyes off him. 

 

“Alright, back to work you go!” Castiel shouts, somewhat playfully as they all exit the room, leaving Charlie and I alone again. 

 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe what you just said to him.” Charlie retorts, as soon as the door slams shut. 

 

“Why? He was being a prick to me, I had to say something back.” I respond, turning to pick up the last crate. The rough edges cut in between my fingers, causing me to wince a little. 

 

“Because Dean, he’s your boss now. Plus he’s… he’s Castiel Novak. New York Times Best Selling author? You know?”   
  


I chuckle, “Actually I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

 

“Well you should.” his voice echos behind me. Then silence. 

 

I didn’t want to turn around to face him. I clench my jaw, not able to muster up the courage to say what I really wanted to say. I watch Charlie walk towards the loading dock in front of me and jump down. She mouthed a simple “sorry” and walked off towards the row of huts by the vineyard. 

 

“Dean Winchester, you and I are getting off on the wrong foot.” He says from behind me, his voice inching closer. I finally turn trying not to look angry at the fact that he was eavesdropping after he seemed in a hurry to leave. 

 

“Yeah, I can tell.” I say simply.

 

“Well, I am here to apologize I guess. I’m not actually a douchebag, just- I don’t know.”

 

“No, it’s fine really. I mean, everyone gets humiliated in front of their new boss on the first meeting. It’s great.”

 

He scanned my face noticing my sarcasm. He bites his lip, and somehow that entranced thing Charlie had going on earlier, was now happening to me. I search his face, taking notice of the lines on his forehead, the bags under his eyes, and his subtle stubble on his chin. His eyes were mesmerizing and I couldn’t help but smile a little. 

 

“Well, I’m sorry. To make up for it, I’m offering you and your gal pal a spot at the main house dinner party tonight.” 

 

“My gal pal?”

 

“Yeah, Charlie. You guys dress nice, come to the front door around 7PM tonight and you’ll get to act like opulent members of society for a night. Sound fun?”

 

I grin at the use of the extensive vocabulary he used, “Sounds more than fun. Noteworthy maybe?”

 

He finally cracked a smile, “See you tonight Dean Winchester.”

 

After our re-meeting, I finish my shift and head to the Row. We call it the Row because it sounds better than calling our houses ‘huts’, but that’s what they were. Concrete buildings with all the basic needs a person needs. We lived here free and there was no house within miles of this place and half the people I worked with were from other countries. They are just trying to get by, except for me, Charlie, and Kevin. We took these jobs because they paid good and we had free living. 

 

I arrive at my front door, noticing Charlie just walking out of her place. 

 

“Hey we are going to that dinner at the Main House tonight.” I say, twisting the knob of my wooden door. She looked at me, puzzled. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because Castiel invited us. Dress in your best gear, we have to be there at 7.”

 

Charlie squeals a little, “Castiel invited us?!”

 

“Yeah, now stop acting like you have a crush on the guy and start getting ready. We have 2 hours to transform into high society looking people.” I open my door and step inside. It reeked of mold and old socks. I did my laundry every 2 weeks and I tend to sweat a lot so my place smelled like a 9th grade boy’s gym locker room. 

 

I dig through my closet finding a nice suit I bought awhile back for my aunt’s funeral. My dad forced me and my brother, Sam, to go suit shopping. We went to a thrift store, knowing that’s all we could afford. Luckily for me, and not my amazonian brother, I found a nice suit for only $50. Sam found an old button up and slacks. 

 

I throw the suit on my bed and dig around some more and find some dress shoes I never wear and can’t even remember if they fit. I toss them on my bed as well and that’s when I hear a knock at my door.

 

“Come in!” 

 

Charlie bursts through the door with dresses piled on her arms. 

 

“Okay, I’m not much for dresses but I can’t decide on which one I should wear. I mean I don’t wanna be too girly, and I sure as hell don’t wanna look like a hooker, and I sort of need a man’s help. A manly man. Who may be a little gay.”

 

I rub my eyes and shake my head, “Okay, let’s see your options, I guess.”

 

“Great.” She throws her crap on top of mine and begins explaining how she looks in each one and how the color doesn’t go with her eyes. 

 

“Instead of telling me what you look like, why don’t you show me?” 

 

She stops yapping and stares at me, “Because… I’m not wearing a bra.” 

 

“Well you’re gay, and I’m apparently “a little gay” so what’s the issue? That’s the only way I will help you decide cause your ranting isn’t getting me to make my decision.” 

 

She looks at me nervously, staring down at the pile of dresses.

 

“Okay, I’ll show you my top 2, and you decide. And no looking!”

 

“Okay, hurry up so I can shower.”

 

I turn away from her, getting my suit out from underneath everything on my bed, and hang it up on the bathroom door. I turn to see Charlie holding up a black gown to her chest, struggling with the zipper. I smile, and assist her without saying a word. The mirror on my dresser reflects us, and she stands there staring at herself. 

 

“I don’t think we need to try another one. I like how this one looks.” 

 

I laugh, placing my hands on her shoulders, “Great. Me too. Now git and meet me outside at 6:50.” 

 

She quickly gathers her things, not even taking off the dress. 

 

-

 

At 6:45, I adjust my tie to make sure I look presentable. I turn on my heels, kind of feeling myself. I clean up fairly well, and I wasn’t the ugliest guy around. I spray on some cheap cologne and grab my cell phone and head outside to wait for Charlie. 

 

I get outside to see her already standing there looking like the gorgeous girl I’ve come to befriend and beam at her. She stands, her mouth agape at the sight of me.

 

“You clean up nice, Winchester. I’ll have to keep you close by so no one tries to steal you.” She concluded, her eyes not leaving mine.

"Come on kiddo."


	2. Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I take a picture of you and your boyfriend?"

There was a line circling the walkway as I glanced out the window. I didn’t see Dean, and I was wondering if he would even show up. He seemed hard headed and it didn’t seem like he was very excited to be invited to a party at this old mansion that I hardly knew my way around. There were doors that lead to staircases, and I didn’t know where they lead. And there was floors I had yet to explore. I glance at myself in the mirror, seeing if I still looked alright. My brown hair was no longer a mop. It was slicked to the side, with help from my father’s stylist. She followed him everywhere and made sure he always looked sharp. 

I return my gaze to the window and see Dean and the red headed girl looking more rich than I probably looked. Dean’s hair was still the same, and he was wearing a nicely tailored looking suit and a nice navy blue tie. The red headed girl was wearing a very elegant ball gown, the crystals glistening under the lights that trailed the walk way. 

I hear a knock at my door, and rush towards it, only assuming it’s my father. I was right.

“Are we all ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“Great.” We walk down the long stretch of hallway, keeping a distance from each other, “Few ground rules, don’t talk about politics with the Mayor and please don’t embarrass me in front of my colleagues.”

“Yes sir.” 

But he knew damn well I’d let something slip. Sarcasm that appeared very rude and not as a joke. It happened all the time. I didn’t know how to talk to people, and they didn’t know how to respond. 

We finally get downstairs and the butler’s open the door. My father’s assistant motions the live violinists and cellists to begin their songs in the far corner of the large foyer. People slowly make their way in, my father shaking their hand and then I. After about 3 old women checking me out and telling me how much I’ve grown, I wanted to leave. I hated parties like this, and I thought if I invited a few people like Dean and Red Head to come, then I could possibly have some entertainment. Or an escape.

When I spot Dean, his beautiful green eyes meet mine and I smile towards him. He extends his hand to my father who looked bewildered that his employees would be joining us this evening, but he didn’t say anything as he shook Dean’s hand. He extended it towards me and when our hands made contact I almost didn’t want to let go. 

I pulled him in so I could whisper in his ear, “I’ll show you guys around if you wait close by.”

He just nodded and dropped my hand. Red Head shook my hand delicately and smiled widely. She cleaned up very well from her old t-shirt and ripped up jeans I saw her in earlier. 

I shook more hands and nodded and smiled and kept up my “Good Son” act and finally my father excused me. I turn on my heels, almost jogging towards Dean’s large figure close to the waiter by the dining room. 

“Hi.” I say weakly, as he turns to face me. 

“Hey dude. These finger foods are kick ass.” He says grabbing a tiny sandwich from the tray the blond man with a suit on was holding. 

“Yeah, they are great. Where’s… uh,” I had been calling her Red Head, and I knew he’d think that’s rude. I wanted to impress him for some reason. 

“Charlie? Little Girl’s room. I’m waiting for her. She should be back soon.”

We stand there in silence for a moment until I spot one of the guys I knew from college coming towards us with a large camera. He smiles over at me, “Castiel, dude how have you been?”

“Well,” I blank on his name, “And you?”

“I’m great. Your father hired me along to his team to take pictures for his website.”

“Oh great, that’s fantastic!” I say trying not to be awkward, feeling Dean’s eyes on me.

“Can I take a picture of you and your boyfriend?”

My eyes widen a little, trying not to have the panic rising within me show. I look over to Dean who is laughing a little, probably thinking that me being gay is the funniest thing he’s heard or something. It was no doubt that the position he was putting me in was embarrassing.

“Of course you can take a picture of us. You said this was for a website?” Dean sputter out quickly after he stopped giggling. 

“That’s correct, uh-?” 

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

The guy motions us to get together, and I instantly get nervous. Where do I put my hand? Do I not touch him completely? Do I smile with teeth or give a serious look? 

“Smile wide!” That answered one question and the unanswered ones all became apparent when Dean pulled me close to his right side and placed his hand on my side. Every butterfly I had before was exploding from my body. I was almost trembling. 

The flash goes off and I remove my hand and body away from Dean.

“Great thank you guys! Have a wonderful night.” 

I anxiously look towards Dean who is smiling again. I furrow my eyebrows cocking my head a little, “What is funny Winchester?”

“Just the fact that I had to pretend to be your boyfriend, it’s comical.”

“W-”

“Hey Castiel!” Red Head eagerly comes towards me giving me a bright cheery grin. I return the gesture, smiling politely.

“Hello.”

“So are you going to show us around or will we fend for ourselves?” She questions jokingly. I shake my head and wave them after me. I was going to show them the main parts of the house, thinking they would get bored and help me sneak out somehow. 

So we walk pass clutters of people and I talk to them about some small tidbits of history I learned of the house after visiting last month. I noticed they stayed focused on me and didn’t say much but make a few comments about how gorgeous and huge everything seemed. We round corners and walk up staircases and I blab on about pointless shit. 

Eventually we make it to a room off the main foyer and there’s around 4 people around chatting and drinking from expensive glassware.

“This place is truly magical. Only been in here once, to be interviewed by the last owner. He didn’t like people who worked for him in his home. So we stayed away and never asked questions.” Dean comments, looking at the ceiling.

“Hey this may be random, but can you two help me with something?” I sounded too rushed and panicked to be taken seriously. They both nod in sync with each other. I take a deep breath and think of how I was going to ask them to help me away from all these people I knew but didn’t like being around. 

“Can you guys, like, help me escape here for the night? I hate most of these people and there’s no one my age but you two and I want to see what it’s like, like, not being around rich hierarchy.”

Red Head looks up at Dean who’s plump pink lips are separated. He stares at me with something in mind, it’s written on his face.

“Of course. But you need to change.” 

His eyes scan my body and I look down at my perfectly-annoyingly-pressed suit. 

“Forget what I’m wearing, let’s just get out of here?”

“You’re not going to fit in with our crowd in that.”

“I can’t go upstairs and change. Just… just lead the way okay? I promise I won’t act like the spoiled rich brat you both think I am.”

And with that we somehow escape the crowd, leaving them all behind for the darkness and stars outside. The night was only lit up by the moon and the music from inside started fading in the distance. 

“That party was getting lame, if I’m being honest.” Red Head says taking off her heels as we find the grassy portion of the backyard. We still had a slight chance of getting caught by the security but I could pay them or something to leave us alone. But being caught by my father, that’s different.

It’s crazy how I’m 23 years old and still worried about getting ‘caught’ by my father. 

“You okay, Castiel?”

His youthful face gleamed in the moonlight and I wanted nothing but to grab it and tell him we owned this night. But my anxious being didn’t allow that and I just nodded. We made it to the outskirts of the hedges and we ran towards the grape fields. At this point I was sweating, so I ditched my coat and jogged to catch up with Red and Dean who were playfully nudging each other. 

“Where are we going?” I question, trying not to sound desperate.

“You’re going to see how the village parties on Friday nights.” Red exclaims excitedly.

We get to the row of worker’s homes and the ground was not only lit up by the sky, but a large bonfire surrounded by about 20 people. There was country music playing from somewhere and their laughter overcame it. 

Dean looks back at me, searching for a reaction. I just smiled. 

We make it to the crowd and they take notice to our fancy attire but the men hand us beers and we find seats close to the fire. The atmosphere was electric and free and I connected it all to a moment I wrote about when I was 18 in a book I never published. A summer barbeque with teenagers getting a little too tipsy and dancing with each other to old country songs and talking about the future. Except right now they weren’t talking about the future, but their families and how much money they made this week and how they love the new song that played. 

“What do you think?” Dean asks.

“I think you should’ve invited me to come to this instead of me inviting you to come to that lame ass party.” I mutter. He laughed and it was the most angelic thing I heard all night.

“Yeah we have fun Fridays out here. You’re always welcomed to come out here and have a cold one with us.”

I catch his gaze, “I’d love to.”

A song I hadn’t heard in years comes on and I stood up to get away from the blaze and cool off a little. I smile at a younger girl who hid behind her mother. Her mother giggled and gestured her to wave, and she waved at me, hesitantly. 

“She’s a cutie. Her mom drives her 20 minutes to school everyday and she comes home with cute paintings for everyone who lives here.” Dean states, before drinking the last of his beer.

“What’s her name?” I ask, watching him stare at her with such optimism. 

“Maria.”

I take a couple more steps away from the fire and Dean follows closely. The song still continues pestering my mind. It brought me back a time I pushed away, so I just shook it off, and continued walking. 

“Are you following me?”

“Well, I have to make sure my boyfriend is having a nice time.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “About that…”

“No dude, it’s cool. I mean if you swing that way, it’s cool. I don’t judge.”

My heart breaks a little, thinking how I must not have a shot because he wasn’t gay. That is until I look at him, and he’s staring at me. Just as I’m about to look away he winks.


	3. Too Many Pet Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where pet names are prominent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to Em. I don't remember your user on here but this is for you angel. Two days before you meet Misha!! I'm so happy and excited and I love you so much!!! xo, Miztique

Dean’s POV

 

I observe him from afar, admiring his simple gestures. The way he smiles at people when they are talking and how his facial expressions change when he says something sarcastic. He was infuriatingly adorable and I was taken aback. 

 

My earliest memory of having a crush on someone was a girl back in kindergarten. She was blond with bright blue eyes and I can’t remember her name but I remember I’d stare at her instead of taking naps. 

 

I began questioning my sexuality when I was about 14 and a guy from school called me “cute” and I got this weird butterflies sensation. I went home and cried, knowing my father would never accept what he called a “fag boy” in his household. So I kept those feelings pushed to the back. I never experimented with a guy, but I knew I was attracted to them. Especially this one.

 

Castiel Novak changed my mind in less than 24 hours. 

 

I didn’t have to answer to my father anymore. I was a day away from him. And the only time I see him is on holidays or if Sam is doing something that needs my attendance. Which was occasional. 

 

I walk up to the empty seat next to Castiel, and sit down. The beer was making my insides feel warm, and I didn’t even notice there was a small group of people left. Charlie, my other neighbor Marco, and two other girls I recognized. 

 

“Well it’s been fun gang, but I have to go. I have to write a little before I sleep and I have meetings in the morning.” Castiel remarks, setting down the empty beer near my side. 

 

“No stay a little longer!” Charlie begged, her eyes hanging lowly. She was tipsy. But we all were.

 

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I will come back another night for sure.” Castiel says, smiling cheaply.

 

“You better.” Marco jokes. Castiel starts to get up and I decide I should make my move and try to walk him home or something. He begins to walk away from the warmth of the fire, towards the mansion on the hill. I jump up and jog after him, disregarding all the comments spewing behind me. 

 

“Hey,” I say catching up to him, “Let me walk you.”

 

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and nods.

 

“You know,” I begin, “I wasn’t trying to be passive aggressive earlier.”

 

“Oh no, you weren’t, I know.”

 

We walk about 100 feet in silence, “So you’re writing a new book?”

 

He shrugs, “Yeah… I want to write a book. Something real. Something… different.”

 

“Well, I’m real and different.” I joke, nudging him. He stops in his stop and stares at me.

 

“You’re right you are.” He says ever-so-quietly. I beam down at him, as we arrive to the side door of the mansion he gets to sleep in tonight. We stand there awkwardly silent trying to find a way to say goodnight. 

 

“Goodnight Dean.”

 

I bite my lip, “Yeah you too, Cas.” I turn on the heels of my dress shoes, beginning to walk back. I don’t hear his footsteps heading towards the door like I should’ve. 

 

“Cas?”

 

His voice sounded sarcastic, almost like he was making fun of the pet name that kind of rolled off my tongue almost too perfectly. 

 

I turn my body to him. He seemed more innocent than before when he was being sarcastic towards me. “Yeah, Cas. A shortened version of your name.”

 

“A sobriquet.”

 

I breathe out of my nose loudly, laughing a little, “Sure… Goodnight Cas.”

 

And with that I begin heading back to my hut. I knew Charlie was still by the fire though, and I questioned whether I should help her get into bed. When she was wasted I knew she’d be messy, so I headed towards the small group and saw one of the girls helping her up. Her eyes were close and she was mumbling things to the girl who looked petrified. 

 

“I’ll take it from here.” I say to the blond girl who handed Charlie off to me. She was dead weight, so I just picked her up bridal style and begin walking aimlessly to her hut. 

 

I lay her in her small bed, and tuck her in. She already changed out of her dress some time in the night, so tucking her in and shutting off all the lights and locking the door was all I needed to do.

 

I step back into the colder night, which seemingly got chiller quickly. I don’t know why but my eyes averted up towards the mansion and I saw a lit up window. I squint to see Castiel standing in front of the window, looking in another direction. It appeared that he was unbuttoning his shirt. My heart basically dropped to my knees and I couldn’t look away. It was pretty far away but the light in his room lit up his perfectly tanned back. 

 

I was being creepy that’s for sure. 

 

To be honest, I was hoping he’d look in my direction and smile and wave at me. But he just walked out of view and I was left in the frigid weather.

Eventually I made it back to my home and stripped down to my underwear. I found pajamas too restricting so I usually wore boxers to bed, or completely nude. But the heater in my room didn’t kick on quickly so I needed at least one layer. 

 

I lay my head on my uncomfortable feather pillow and thought of angels. It was random, but comforting. My father was never religious, but before my mom died she used to tell me every night that angels were looking after me, and that I should trust God to keep me safe. When I started losing my way, dropping out of high school, getting into drugs, coming home drunk every night, I pretty much damned God and every apparent angel there was. 

 

But for some reason I felt a presence with me tonight. Maybe it was the warmth of the boos in my stomach, or the confidence I felt walking into a room of richer people and having women   
stare at me. I don’t know. 

 

Somehow between thinking of God and Angels, I found comfort in the darkness and that’s when I fell asleep. 

 

-

 

My alarm goes off every morning at 5:00AM, with a repetitive ringtone so it’d annoy me out of bed. When it sounded, I got up, put on some jogging shorts, an old t-shirt, and sneakers, and made my round around some of the vineyard paths. The morning air was crisp, but even then I sweat like a dog. My shoes are too worn and falling apart but I couldn’t afford buying new ones and honestly I could probably run barefoot if I wanted. But I didn’t so I dealt with the holes where my toes went and the cracking soles. 

 

After 35 minutes, I slow down as I get closer to the mansion. It was dark at the upper floors but the kitchen light was on. The kitchen was in the rear of the house, close to the loading docks. I stopped in there every morning to talk to the head chef, Manny, about his family and catch up on work at the worker’s corner. I usually checked if we had shipments due or if I had a day off to myself. Being that it was Saturday and we had shipments yesterday, I decided to stop by just to chat with Manny before I had to head into work in the warehouse.

 

I bust through the door, causing him to jump and laugh aloud. 

 

“Winchester!” His husky voice cheered. Manny was fat, Italian, and the jolliest man I’ve ever known. He had 6 children and a wife he talked about all the time. He loved his family just as much as he loved food. 

 

“How are you doing, Manny?”

 

“Just chatting with our new boss.” As soon as he said it, I turn to the worker’s break table and see Castiel sitting there sipping on coffee.

 

“Good morning, Dean.”

 

“Morning, Cas. Weird seeing you here.”

 

I head towards the coffee maker, “Wanted to get to know every one of my father’s employees. So have a good run?”

 

I chuckle, “Why do you care? Were you watching?”

 

He scoffs, “No, Manny tells me you run every morning. Plus you’re very sweaty.”

 

“That’s not even bad as he gets, Mr. Novak. In the ‘ummer it’s like… sprinklers gone off in the fields!” His thick accent and his comment cause me to laugh a little harder than I should’ve. Castiel just smiles and continues to drink his coffee.

 

“How’s the family Manny?”

 

“Very good, my little girl is captain of her cheer squad. Now she think she ought to get a new cell phone! She’s already got IPhone, she don’t need new one!” Manny explains cutting some sort of vegetable I was not familiar with.

 

“Girls,” I begin, “Glad I didn’t grow up with one.”

 

“Yeah, she good girl though. Straight A’s… always making Mama and Papa proud.”

 

We all smile in a comfortable hanging silence. I pour myself coffee and drink it black. This causes Castiel’s eyes to furrow. 

 

“Black?” He questions.

 

“Yeah. I don’t need sugar or creamer. Takes away from the true taste.”

 

“That’s the point, D.”

 

I glance up at him. D?

 

“Did you just call me a pet name?”

 

“Short names get repetitive. You have to change it up sometimes.” He describes, before finishing off his coffee.

 

“By making it one syllable?”

 

“Yes, in fact.” 

 

We sit there in silence while I finish my coffee and Manny proceeds to tell us about his wild family and how they all planned a huge family get together for next weekend. Castiel and I would glance over at each other every now and again to give our reactions to Manny’s wild topics behind his back. It almost became a game and we would laugh silently. Before I knew it, it was 6:30 and I had to clock in at 7 and I haven’t even had a shower yet. 

 

“Hey I have to go jump in the shower, I have to work today. I’ll see you both later.”

 

Without any of them saying anything, I jog back to my hut to take a shower and get my work clothes on. While in the shower I planned out my day and all my responsibilities, when I was getting dressed I thought about what Charlie and I would talk about, and when I was leaving I thought about Castiel’s smile.

 

It was going to be a good day.


	4. The Notebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel isn't quite sure what his boundaries are so he goes for it anyway

Castiel’s POV

It was Friday, the end of the week which meant a work-free weekend. Not that I even worked much on the weekdays. Especially this week. 

 

My room had a perfect view of Dean stacking crates on to trucks, and I usually would sit at my desk, uninspired and not able to write and watch him flex his muscles in a tank top as he lifted the wooden crates into the bed of the trucks. It was entertaining to watch him curse if he got a blister or observe him talking to Charlie about random stuff I couldn’t hear clearly.

 

Today, I sit at my desk waiting for Dean to appear in my window, but he doesn’t. By the time 12 rolls around, I grow worried. I am the type of person to think the worse, and this causes unbelievable and pointless stress. 

 

I decide to get on some proper clothing and run downstairs to the worker’s offices and see if he’s in there or maybe the kitchen. The whole walk down I questioned if my outfit matched, and I don’t even know why. It was like I worried about what Dean would think about me. 

 

I had a schoolboy crush on him. I don’t think it’s something I would pursue completely. He was my employee in a way and I don’t think he’s completely interested in me. But this didn’t stop me from blushing when he looked my way or preventing me from having a mini heart attack when he said “hi” to me every so often. 

 

I enter the warm kitchen and see Marco chopping celery and carrots for tonight’s dinner. 

 

“Hey, did Dean come in this morning?”

 

“No, Mr. Novak. Believe he’s cooped up sick in his hut. Charlie said he is very ill. Puking and the lot.” 

 

My heart sank a little. I felt the urge to help and maybe visit him. But was that crossing the line? There was a boundary, I believe. But then again, does that boundary prevent me from being a decent human being and checking up on him?

 

I needed the exercise anyway. I would walk over there and check up on him. I made up my mind as I turn away from Marco to see if there was any tea left in the basket by the coffee maker.

 

There wasn’t of course. People would take them back to their huts and make it themselves, not wanting to bother Marco to heat up a kettle. 

 

“Okay Marco,” I begin, turning on my heels, “I want you to heat me up a kettle of ginger tea and I want some hot soup. Put it in a basket. I’ll be back down in 20 minutes, can you do that for me?”

 

“Of course Mr. Novak.”

 

I ran back upstairs because the whole time I was standing in the kitchen I finally realized how my pants didn’t match my shirt and I needed to change. I was out of breath by the time I made it to my bedroom. As soon as I flung it open I ran like a wild man trying to find a decent outfit. I changed into a pair of black jeans and grey t-shirt. I was conflicted on whether Dean would genuinely care what I looked like due to the fact that he was bedridden.

 

I go to my TV stand and search for some of my favorite movies. Some action, some comedies, and even a chick flick that was my secret guilty pleasure. I through them all into a bag and then headed back downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, Marco handed me a basket and I was on my way. It would only take about 5 minutes to walk to Dean’s but I knew I’d stop to talk to some of the workers. 

 

Once I arrived to the huts, everyone was returning to eat their lunches and talk to their neighbors I got a couple glances and awkward stares as I approached Dean’s house. I knock quietly and I hear a rustling sound before the door slowly opened. Dean stood there, shirtless. He was wearing baggy sweatpants he looked awful. He squints at me, as if he cannot believe that I’m at his door. 

 

“Can I come in?”

 

He doesn’t say anything he just opens the door wider so I can step in without knocking into the wooden frame. He shuts it behind me, and I realize how dirty his place was. I was a clean freak, so instantly I wanted to drop everything and disinfect everything. 

 

“I brought you some stuff because Marco told me you were sick.”

 

“You didn’t have to, Cas. I don’t want you in here getting sick and all.” He remarked laying down on his small bed. I smiled politely, pulling out the kettle and a mug that Marco neatly placed in there. I pour him some ginger tea- tea my mom used to make for me when I was ill.

 

“Here. It may not taste amazing, but it will get rid of the chills you may have. I also brought you soup, if you start to get hungry. Oh- and I brought a couple movies in ca-”

 

“Cas!” Dean chokes out grabbing the mug I was handing him, “Thank you, but just breathe. You are talking too fast.”

 

I was shaking by this point. I was nervous, one because Dean was shirtless and two because he actually let me in his place. 

 

“I’m just trying to be a good friend. Cause, I think we are friends. I mean I hope we are.”

 

He took a sip of the tea, chuckling between sips, “Yes, Cas. We are friends.”

 

There was a silence and I just stood there watch his toned arms raise with the mug to take small sips.

 

“What movies did you bring?”

 

I didn’t even speak I just handed him the bag. 

 

He dug through the blue bag, smiling crookedly. The bags under his eyes made him appear tired and sickly but he was still the most beautiful human being to me somehow. 

 

“The Notebook?”

 

Damn it.

 

“Guilty pleasure.”

 

“Well that’s something you watch with someone else. Are you sticking around?”

 

My heart raced even faster. I couldn’t believe my ears and I stood there like an idiot for at least 10 seconds, mouth agape. 

 

“Cas?”

 

“Oh right, yeah. Yeah I’ll stay…” I began to panic a little, trying to plan a possible escape route if he changed his mind. All I could think was “where should I sit?”

 

“Alright, since I’m sweating like a dog and I’m sick I don’t think you should lay with me-” I didn’t even think of that and he is saying it so casually like “yeah it’s no big deal if you lay beside me in this extremely small bed very close to me almost like cuddling, oh my god we’d cuddle”... My palms began to get clammy and I wanted to run, but he continued to tell me that I could pull up the arm chair from the corner and prop my feet up.

 

I did what he said and I placed the chair close to his bed. I felt so unsure of everything, but I did it and tried to seem confident when I felt like a lost puppy in the park. 

 

Dean carefully instructed me how to use his ancient DVD player and how to change the setting on the television. I could feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down whenever I moved and I felt uneasy. Did he think my outfit was too casual? I shouldn’t have changed. That button up looked really good on me. I could’ve just changed into a different pair of pants. 

 

“Alright, it should load and we should be good to go. You can sit.” Dean said carelessly, as he propped himself on a pillow. His chest was showing and I spotted a tattoo on his inner bicep. I stopped in my tracks in front of a pile of clothes.

 

“What’s your tattoo?” I ask a little too pushy. I refrained, “If you don’t wanna tell me…”

 

“No sit and I’ll tell you about it.” 

 

I plopped down on the old armchair and turned my body towards him to face him completely. He smiled, lifting up his arm to reveal a large tattoo of a guitar. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking around the room. That’s something I’d spot quickly.

 

“I don’t have one. I did. I had to sell it.” He chuckled, “I got it when I was 18. My dad said I could get anything I want and at that time I was massively into music when I wasn’t doing things that I shouldn’t have. It was something I wanted to pursue. But then things got worse, and I sold my guitar so I could buy alcohol for a party that ended up getting me in jail for a night. It was stupid and by far my biggest regret.”

 

I didn’t know what to say, I just stared at his stern expression. I knew he was waiting for an answer but I had no response. 

 

“Did I share too much?” He leaned back against his pillow and gave me a worried expression.

 

“What got worse?”

 

I watched his Adam’s Apple pop out as he swallowed hard. “My life.”

 

He was the type of guy to hide things, it was obvious. He didn’t want to get into his dark past in fear that people would judge him or never speak to him again. He was not wrong for discussing the topic, but it only made him more of a mystery to me. I loved mysteries sometimes but, I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to make him a character, like in my books. I want to know all the important things but leave the other small things to chapters later on in this hypothetical book. 

 

“I have another one,” He begins, “But it’s in a spot I rather not share.”

 

“Is it on your ass?”

 

We erupted into laughter, cutting the seriousness out of the air. 

 

“Sadly no. That’s my next spot of interest.”

 

Suddenly the laughter was interrupted by a loud crack of thunder. I glance out the front window and see dark clouds forming in the sky. When I returned my look at Dean, he smiles.

 

“Looks like we have a storm and movie to watch now.”

 

-

 

The movie was romantic and dramatic like it has been every single time I’ve watched it. In between slower parts Dean and I would comment about the sky and I’d ask if he’d want some food or tea. He would kindly accept and I would move through the small living quarters helping him with whatever he needed. As the movie ended, the storm started getting heavier, which was a sign that I’d probably have to sit through another movie with Dean.

 

We watched the credits roll down the screen before the door swings open and Charlie walks in, tears rolling down her face, soaked in water. A gust of wind comes through and causes me to squint. Charlie walks in, water dripping onto the cold wooden floors.

 

“What’s wrong, Char?” Dean questions quickly.

 

“Morgan broke up with me.” She says, allowing more tears to slip from her hazel eyes. Dean gets up from the bed, slowly making his way to her. His arms were extended and she fell into his chest. He hugged her a protectively, rubbing circles into her back, letting her cry all over his chest. I didn’t say anything, just watched Dean with her. He has this aura about him that seemed so comforting and loving. He loved Charlie, cared for her deeply, and it was written all over his face and you could feel it when he got up to hug her. I don’t quite know how to explain it.

 

“Do you wanna sit with us and talk through it?”

 

She nodded, prodding towards Dean’s disheveled bed. Dean kept his hand on her back as they sat down. 

 

“By the way, hello Castiel, I didn’t expect you to be here.” She says, wiping away some tears with the back of her hand. 

 

“I can leave if you want to…” I gaze out the window seeing the downpour only getting worse. 

 

“No, it’s fine. Maybe you can share some advice…” Charlie drifts off, letting out a quiet sob.

 

“What happened?” Dean asks, taking her hands. I notice her chipped grey nail polish, that you could tell she picks off. I smile briefly, before getting caught by Dean. 

 

“She called me and told things weren’t working for her. She said she wasn’t ready to face her homophobic parents and wanted to stick to dating girls in private.” Charlie explains, “She told me she was seeing other girls already and that I should do the same.”

 

Dean’s jaw tensed up, “That bitch.”

 

“How long were you two together?” I question, trying to be delicate about it.

 

“Four months.”

 

“And you obviously cared a lot about her to be crying about it?”

 

“Of course.”

 

I bite the inner part of my cheek, wanting to say what I was thinking, but wasn’t sure if they would get offended. So, we sat in silence.

 

“She doesn’t deserve you, Char.” Dean mumbles, before pressing his lips to her head and rubbing her arm. He was very good at comforting, and I felt like I was failing at   
being a friend.

 

“Caring about someone can fucking suck. You may have cared widely for this girl, and she may have been beautiful and hilarious and wonderful and everything you could dream about, but she obviously didn’t care enough to be honest with you. Un-sureness just doesn’t come out of nowhere and smack you in the face. It’s a constant build up. She wasn’t honest, and that’s something very important in a relationship, Charlie. You will find a girl one day that makes the sun rise and set with only you and she’ll be the one. This is just one of those things, you know?”

 

Dean stared at me with wonder, as Charlie wiped away a tear and nodded. She reached out to hug me and I in return hugged her tightly for a minute or so. Dean’s eyes were still on me, shocked and awed. 

 

“I’m gonna go take a nap. Maybe go down a couple beers. It’s been a long day, and I don’t want to burden you two.” She got up and started heading for the door, “Thanks you two. I needed the comforting.”

 

She walked out and Dean didn’t say a thing, he just continued to stare at me. 

 

“What?”

 

“How did you come up with that?”

 

“What? What I said to Charlie?” I ask, smiling sheepishly.

 

“Yeah!”

 

“I’m a writer, Dean. Words are kinda my thing.”

 

He shook his head, smiling his bright beautiful smile, “Yeah. They really are, aren’t they?"


	5. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean always questioning himself.  
> What's new?

Dean’s POV

 

Everyday for 3 days, Castiel would stop in with a basket full of soup and hot tea. The fever only got worse, and I had some sick leave built up from the years I’ve worked at the vineyards. He would sit in my old beat up recliner and talk to me about books, music, life, writing, anything. The more he told me things about himself, the more I understood why he is the way he is. He’s introverted, but when he needs to be professional (like when meeting other professionals/new employees) he comes off as a dick because he isn’t sure how to act. He loves old 80s love ballads and has a whole playlist dedicated to his favorites. He sleeps on the right side of the bed in the summer, and the left in the winter. He wrote his first book when he was 7 and it was about a duck who ask too many questions and someone ran him over. He doesn’t like planes because he always gets sick. He only had one pet in his life- a cat named Benny who he believed as a kid would run off into the woods at night and turn into a vampire. 

 

Everyday I’d learn something new about him and get to watch him laugh and talk about his favorite things and his past life and it somehow made me feel better. 

 

Friday morning rolled around and I was finally back to work. I knew I wanted to do something polite for Cas, to thank him for taking such good care of me when he could’ve been doing a million other things with his time. The only thing I could think of was flowers. 

 

Behind the huts are small plots that the women use to garden fresh veggies and flowers. I knew if one of the women caught me jacking their flowers, I would get my ass handed to me. So, just before dawn I ran out with some scissors, and cut a beautiful arrangement of flowers. It all seemed really stupid once I was doing it.

 

I was giving my boss flowers?

 

I continued on my way, forgetting my doubts and ran inside my house. I put on my typical work clothes and started my way towards the kitchen where I knew Cas would eventually be, talking to Marco and drinking his daily tea. I open the door and see Marco just getting to the kitchen, flicking on the lights. He looks at me with curiosity in his eyes.

 

“Who those flowers for, hm?”

 

“Castiel. He’s been taking good care of me and I have no way to repay him.” I remark, sitting down at the table right next to Marco’s work station.

 

“Hm, very nice of you. Boy should be down soon. He up late last night.”

 

I set the flowers down at the table, “Do you know why?”

 

“Said he couldn’t sleep. Wanted to write or something. I don’t know completely.”

 

I nodded before I heard stomping coming down the staircase in the corner of the room. Castiel walked in still in his blue pajamas, looking tired and dazed. He glances over at me, not even saying a hello. I watch him carefully go to the tea area to make himself a cup. 

 

Instantly I want to throw the flowers in the garbage and rethink my whole life, but something inside me begged me to stay. I stayed still and waited for him to sit down across from me. 

 

When he did, I picked up the flowers slowly and handed them to him. He set down his mug, took them and finally smiled. Relieved, I smiled back.

 

“What are these for?”

 

“To thank you for being so wonderful to me these last couple days. It means a lot.” I respond, watching him carefully place the flowers in his lap.

 

“Yanno, usually people in relationships give each other flowers to commemorate love. Or living people give them to the dead.”

 

I chuckle, “I guess you could call them friendship flowers then.” 

 

He smiles brightly and grabs his cup of tea. “When is the last time you’ve been off the estate?”

 

It was an odd question, “A month ago. Charlie does my grocery shopping and I visit my brother once a month.” I reply, looking into his tired eyes. He seemed genuinely interested, but distant. I just assumed it’s because he’s sleepy.

 

“You wanna go with me today? I have a meeting in town and I don’t wanna go alone.”

 

I smile, but instantly know I could never just take another day off. I don’t care if Castiel was in charge of my sick days (which I know he’ll let me off if it involves being with him) but I was making others do my typical hard heavy labor. I felt guilty making people do things that they aren’t used to doing. 

 

“I have to get back to work today.”

 

“I’ll give you a long lunch break. It’ll only take like an hour, I promise.”

 

“Why do you want me to go?”

 

He stares down at my hands that are folded on the table, “Because you’re my only friend. And it’ll be weird not talking to you all day.”

 

I huff. I felt bad but I knew that I couldn’t get too close to Cas. He was my boss for the time being and I didn’t want to mix my professional life with my personal life. I knew that that would go wrong quickly and I’d get fired. And I loved my job. I made good money and lived free and have amazing coworkers. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

 

“Yeah, Cas I just can’t.”

 

His smile fades, “It’s okay. Maybe we can eat dinner tonight in here?”

 

I swallow, “Maybe. If I don’t work late.”

 

He nods politely, picking up his tea and flowers. “Well then, get to work Winchester.” 

 

I say my quick goodbyes to Marco and head out. The sun was beating down already and I knew I’d be sweating like all day. I jog to the warehouse to catch the door that was shutting behind a wave of red hair. I see Charlie with her clipboard and khaki shorts. 

 

“What’s up?”

 

I observe her mouth curve into a smile, “Just been busy working. Unlike you, you slacker.”

 

“I’ve been sick… How are you feeling?”

 

Her smile seems to fade a little and she becomes hesitant, “I’m fine, Dean. I will be okay… how about you? Sickness gone? Ask out Castiel yet?”

 

I stop in my tracks. Ask out Cas? How did this girl know my every thought even when I didn’t tell her?

 

“Wait, what about Cas?”

 

“You still call him Cas, too! You so like him.”

 

I swallow, knowing damn right she was completely correct. “Yeah, so? What’s it to you?”

 

“He likes you too, Dean. Ask him out.” Charlie encourages. She thought it as some innocent, easy thing to do when it was anything but that. I couldn’t just go after someone who signs my paycheck at the end of the week. I rethink to the flowers then, knowing for sure I crossed the line and I couldn’t continue to do so.

 

But Castiel was bright. He made me smile with his bad jokes and nervous fumbling. The quiet giggles that would escape his mouth when we were watching bad comedies that never made me laugh. The way he explained his work and how he loved listening to me ramble on about my hobbies and family. He gave me a reason to wake up when I was ill. He allowed me to break out of some walls I had built just by looking at me a certain way.

 

I’m fucked. 

 

“I can’t. I can’t be asking out my boss. That’s against the rules.” I breathed as I begin stacking endless amounts of crates. I had to get into a groove and right now I was not in one. I was completely side-tracked.

 

“What rules, Dean? There are no rules. And technically he’s not your boss. His father is, he’s just filling in remember?” Charlie explained, writing things down on her clipboard as she walked through the maze of crates.

 

“There are rules! And for the time being he’s my boss.”

 

“You’re right.” HIs voice is still raspy from sleep. I jump at the thought he may have heard our whole conversation. 

 

I look back at him, probably looking very guilty and stupid. He just smiles, still holding the flowers I gave him this morning. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. His hair was still sticking in different directions.

“Cas, what are you doing here? I didn’t mean…” I didn’t know what else to say so I just stood there, completely dumbfounded.

 

“No you’re right, Dean.” Charlie wondered closer towards us, as Cas began to continue on, “But I don’t know why... but I want to break them all for you. So if you truly want to ask me out, or whatever… I’ll say yes and I’ll make sure we don’t talk about work. And if it doesn’t end well, no harm done. Promise.”

 

I gaze over at Charlie who’s face is beaming with excitement. It was almost like this was a soap opera before her very eyes. I stretch a little, grabbing the back of my neck. How did I get myself into this situation?

 

“Fine. That dinner tonight, yes I’ll be there.” I mutter, trying not to be hesitant. 

 

“You don’t sound so sure. Come on, Winchester,” Castiel’s toothy grin made butterflies shoot through my stomach, “Ask me.”

 

“Fine,” I bite my lip and look around trying not to make that direct eye contact that makes me fumble my words, “Will you accompany me to dinner?”

 

I watch his face contort and he stands there acting like he’s thinking very hard about the question. I almost want him to say no. 

 

“Yeah. That sounds great. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

 

With that I watch him leave the warehouse without even answering me about why he was even there. I turn on my heels to freak out to Charlie but she was just going back to work like it was no big deal. 

 

All day I thought about cancelling. I couldn’t believe all of it happened like that. I imagined asking him before and it was less rushed and more romantic. Like he would stop me in the middle of the street one day and I’d slide some pick up line or something and he’d ask me out. 

 

I stacked crates and arranged stock and when I glanced over towards Castiel’s familiar window. I saw the flowers I gave him in the frame. I couldn’t help but geek out over it and tell Charlie all about it during lunch. 

 

I wanted to be happy, but I continued to doubt the whole thing. Relationships that start at work never work out in the movies, they couldn’t work out in real life. Right?

 

At 5, I clocked out and ran home to showered, shaved, and pace my room to try to figure out what the hell I was going to wear. I didn’t even know if we were eating in the kitchen or we were going out. He said he was going to pick me up? Were we going to a fancy restaurant? Should I go more casual? 

 

I spend 30 minutes deciding and I finally just pull out a pair of black jeans and a white dress shirt. I had nothing to wear anyway, I didn’t shop for clothes. My dad would buy me a couple shirts and jeans for Christmas and that’s the clothes I’d wear every day. I don’t splurge on shoes or nice tops. It was pointless. 

 

It was 6:30 and I stood in front of my mirror. Then after questioning my outfit 10 times, I turned to the door. I heard a car on the gravel and started to panic. I rushed towards my cologne and spray two pumps on myself and pace a little. I sniff my armpits because hey, you never know. 

 

What am I doing?

 

A knock sounds on my door and I grab the handle, opening to see Castiel dressed similarly. His eyes are bright and his hair is combed to the side.

 

“Hey.” He says, a smile creeping on his face as he looks me up and down.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Ready to go?”

 

“Uh…” I look back at my room like I’m maybe forgetting something, “Yeah. Let’s go.”


	6. Pull Pork And Hand Kisses

Castiel’s POV

 

The steering wheel was cold against my hot, sweating hands. I pull up to Dean’s small house and pull the keys out of the ignition. I walk to the door right? 

 

Yes Castiel, you walk to the door and open the car door for him. Be a gentleman. 

 

The crunching of the gravel somehow makes me nervous as I approach his door. I rest my knuckles on his wooden door before I knock. 

 

Is this seriously happening? Am I taking Dean Winchester out of a date?

 

He looked wonderful, and there was no denying it. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he smiled and I felt my heart burst and everything felt so real. I didn’t say anything, I just stared at this man in front of me with a completely dumbfounded expression. He never failed to impress me.

 

“Do I look okay?” He asked, obviously feeling self conscious since I didn’t even say hi, I just stared. 

 

“Dean, you are one prepossessing sight.”

 

He laughed, “I don’t know what that means but I’m hoping it’s great cause you won’t take your eyes off me.”

 

I nodded, blushing a little too hard and begin biting my lip.

 

“Ready?”

 

We walked to the car, and that’s when I began noticing people around were not looking away from us. They stood shocked, confused, and completely enlightened by the sight of Dean and I leaving. I watched Dean’s neighbor water her flowers as I opened the door for him, and she just beamed at us like we were the King and Queen of England. I shut the door and ran to my side of the car. Once I got in, I felt this sudden rush of adrenaline. I looked over at Dean who seemed kind of antsy.

 

“You okay?” I question, noticing the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

 

“Yeah, I’m just nervous. Let’s not mess this up, okay?”

 

“No pressure!”

 

“I mean, I just like you a lot and I’ve kept denying it and it’s kinda annoying. Like I’m back and forth with mysel-”

 

“Is it because you’re not out?” I ask curiously.

 

“No! I mean like, dating my boss? That’s strange and new. And I haven’t dated in like 3 years and I’m new to dating guys.”

 

“So you aren’t out?”

 

He looked over at me with his green eyes blank, “No, Cas. I’m not officially out, but I don’t give a shit. People can look at me and see that I’m out. I don’t need to make an official announcement, like “hey everyone! I’m bisexual and dating a guy!!” That’s just dumb. My brother knows, my dad doesn’t care, and Charlie somehow already knows. That’s all who really matters to me.”

 

I feel myself smiling at what a ranter he is, “Okay, Dean Winchester. You don’t need to officially announce it. You’re right.”

 

“Okay great, now let’s go somewhere to eat before I eat off my arm because these nerves mixed with hunger, equals me like this.”

 

I chuckle, “Okay, okay. We are going.”

 

-

 

The drive we sat quietly and listened to the songs playing from a mix CD I made myself a long time ago. It was peaceful and allowed both our nerves to calm. Once we pull up to my favorite BBQ place, I look over to see Dean’s reaction. He didn’t look surprised at all, which was a let down and relieving. This was the only place I can imagine him liking. 

 

We got out and before I could even do or say anything, he comes towards me and takes my hand. 

 

There were eruptions in my heart and I felt my cheeks get hot. He just smiles and motions me me begin walking. As we reach the door, he grabs the handle and nods. I walk into the restaurant, inhaling the sweet smell and look back at Dean who looks like a child in a candy shop. The place wasn’t busy at all which was nice. Just one small family and two couples towards the front chowing down on some tasty dishes. 

 

“Just two of you?” The older woman asks from behind the counter. I smile and nod, “Pick wherever. I’ll be right with y’all.”

 

We find a booth towards the back of the building and sit across from each other. The woman comes to us immediately and hands us paper menus, “Specials tonight are Baby Back Ribs and our infamous Pulled Pork. What do ya want to drink?”

 

“I’ll have water.” I mumble, looking down at the menu quietly.

 

“Give me a Bud Light. And I’ll take both those specials.” Dean says casually, as he hands back the menu to the full framed woman. She stares down at little ole me, a wide grin plastered on her face.

 

“Just give me the pulled pork.” I say not making direct eye contact as I handed back the menu. Dean was good at people- it was obvious. I was not good at all. I sucked at talking directly to people and when I did I came off as rude. I liked to keep to myself, and I made the pretty evident. 

 

“You seem tense,” Dean says reaching for my hand, “Take a breath. We are like the only one’s in here. You can relax.”

 

“I know I’m just-” I finally look up at his eyes, “You make me nervous when you touch me.”

 

“Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?” He asks, a grin taking over his face.

 

“Yes, those muscles I don’t think I could handle them all at once.” I laugh. The woman comes back and quickly puts our drinks down. 

 

After that the conversation flowed easily. It was like being back in Dean’s house talking about life and random things. My favorite thing about talking to him was how he nodded and genuinely cared about what I had to say. I didn’t get a lot of that growing up. My father disregarded everything I said assuming I was just some stupid kid with no mind nor important thoughts. 

 

But once work somehow came into the conversation, Dean would stop and just stare at me. 

 

“What about you? You’re not just playing boss, you’re writing a book aren’t you?”

 

I looked him up and down as he shoveled his food that just came into his mouth. I smirk, and think. Was I writing? Or was I simply slacking because I’ve been caught up with Dean? If that was the case, I didn’t want to tell him. That'd be embarrassing. 

 

“Yeah, I haven’t been writing because I stare at you while you stack crates all day.”

 

“So have you?”

 

“Kind of. I’ve been distracted.”

 

“What’s been distracting you?” 

 

“Helping my dad I guess. I don’t really know.” I lie. He furrows his eyebrows, but relaxes once he starts to chew again.

 

“Is it a book? Or?”

 

“Yes, it’s a book.” A book that I haven’t even started yet.

 

After that we just sit in silence and chew our foods. For some reason I felt that I needed to bring it up again to make sure he didn’t think I was slacking on my job. It felt kind of pushed but I couldn’t stop myself once I started speaking.

 

“I want to write a book. Something real. Something… different.”

 

I watch him take in the words as he munched his food, “Well I’m real and different.”

 

For some reason, those were the words I needed to hear. 

-

 

We finished around 8 and I knew we couldn’t go home. I paid for our dinner and we left and got in the car and sat in silence for a few moments. 

 

“Where to now?”

 

I shrugged, “Anywhere you wanna go?”

 

We were about 10 minutes from downtown which was nice, but it was mainly bars and I didn’t have any desire to get piss drunk with Dean. He was already a little tipsy from the 3 beers he had.

 

“Just drive.” 

 

I started up the car and we began on our way. My hand was placed on the middle console and I felt warmth over it before Dean took it into his hand and brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. Every nerve felt it and it was just the spark I needed. 

 

We drove all over the back country. Endless fields and trees lined the back roads and Dean hummed to the songs on the radio and we sat in a wonderful silence, hand and hand. Eventually we started to repeat roads and that’s when a certain place came to mind. A small dock my dad kept his boats on. It was back a path in the woods right outside of town and it was the most private and quiet place I could think of. I started my way there, and Dean kept staring over at me, a big smile on his face. 

 

We arrived around 9:45 and the stars were twinkling in the sky. I yanked out blankets I had in my trunk and Dean stood by the edge of the water, his hands in his pockets. I handed him half of the stack of blankets and we laid them out of the weathered dock. You heard the locus in the woods and the quiet rush of water that hit the shore every so often. It was a beautiful soundtrack. 

 

We finally sat down on the mountain of blankets and Dean pulled me close to him and I laid my head on his chest. He smelled mainly of beer, but a hint of fabric softener was in the mix also. It was comforting in some odd way. I heard his heart racing as I sat up to face him. The moonlight hit the side of his face, and I watched his eyes reflect me.

 

“I want to kiss you.” I whisper.

 

“Then do it.”

 

There was a silent build up as I leaned in and met his lips. They were a little bit chapped, but tender and smooth. His hand was placed neatly on my side and he pulled me closer and closer. I felt so small, as our bodies moved in sync of our kissing. There was so much going on in my head, but I was too blown away that I was actually kissing him to think about all the things I should’ve been thinking about. 

 

As he pulled away, I bit my lip. 

 

“I somehow knew you’d be good at that.” He mumbles, trying to cover up his surprised face.

 

“You should see me when I’m a little drunk. I’m an expert.”

 

“No,” He touched my cheek, “You can’t get any better than that.”


	7. Hey Jude

Dean’s POV

 

I wake up tangled in his arms. His scent was overshadowed by the chilly morning air. I realized we were still on the dock. I sit up slowly, trying not to disturb his slumber, as I stare out towards the water. Besides the fact that I got about 30 bug bites last night, I think this was the best date I’ve ever been on. 

 

I look back at Cas sleeping and smile. He must've sensed me awake because his eyelashes fluttered open, his piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

 

“Good morning.” He says groggily. 

 

“Morning.” 

 

He sits up beside me and we just stare at each other for a moment until I make the move to kiss his lips. It was long and tender and Cas’ hand found my side causing me to jump a little. He smiled and that’s when we broke the kiss. 

 

“I need to go pee, then we can leave.” He mutters, getting up from the mountain of blankets we created. 

 

I just nod, waiting until he walks away to start folding the blankets. I pile them high and once I finish completely, Cas comes back with a confused expression.

 

“We could've just thrown them in the back you know?” He remarks, with a goofy smile playing on his lips.

 

“Listen I was trying to be nice!” I reply sarcastically.

 

“Well I appreciate it.” He says kissing my cheek. I blush a little and pick up the pile of blankets and head towards the car. The gravel crunched underfoot and I heard Cas’ phone ringing in the car.

 

“Phones ringing.” I mumble, opening the back door to toss the blankets in. Cas runs to the phone, answering it before it rang on last time. 

 

He began to walk away towards the woods to have more privacy but I knew it was a business call because his voice got serious very quickly.

 

I wipe the sleep from my face and rub my eyes. I was tired and I didn't realize how bad my back hurt from sleep on a wooden dock on a pile of blankets.

 

I sit in the passenger seat and gaze around Cas’ car. Bubble gum wrappers littered the floor and an outfit or two in the back seat. It was a Mercedes, but an older model. You can tell he spent a lot of time in it. I thought back to my old Chevy ‘67 Impala my father kept in his garage. He said it would officially be mine when he died, but of course it was mine. I took care of it the most and took it for joyrides with Sam as we blasted old 80s hair jams. Those were the best time with Sam, and part of me missed them.

 

He returns to the car with a conflicted expression. He wouldn't say anything. His demeanor was less lovey dovey like it was just minutes ago. So I just let a out a long sigh, trying to break the silence.

 

“My publisher is going to drop me unless I finish this book I've promised them.” He says blankly, not meeting my eyes. 

 

“The one you said you're working on?”

 

He pursed his lips, “Sort of working on. I haven't written a good sentence in months. I… I wanna make it about me this time. My experiences through a character, but I'm bland. I have no substance and the characters I make up always have something great to offer.”

 

This was not only offensive to him, but to me. Had I picked a guy who believed himself as bland? There's no way. If Castiel was bland, then had he considered me eccentric? Now that's definitely a wrong connotation. Castiel was smart and intriguing. His words somehow meant more even if another person could said them and they would not mean as much. He was passionate and sarcastic and had a sense of home to him, something I always craved in another person. 

 

“Castiel, you're not bland. Don't even say that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you're not, okay? You're wonderful and talented and one of the most caring people I know. You may be flawed, or whatever, but you still mean something. Especially to me.”

 

He smiled a bit, trying to see me in a different light, I guess. He didn't understand how much he actually meant to me.

 

“Dean you don't have to say th-”

 

“But I do.”

 

For most of the remainder of the time in the car, Cas and I just held hands and sat in silence, both lost in thought. I know I was thinking about how my dad and brother would react to me having a boyfriend. If that’s even what this was. Maybe it was a simple fling, but for some reason this whole thing felt like a lot more. Castiel didn’t seem like the type to just have “things” with guys. 

 

Regardless, Sam would probably approve and not care, but my father would probably say something slightly homophobic and be awkward. I didn’t blame him of course, it was how he was raised. But part of me knew that my Dad wouldn’t understand and end up disregard the feelings as a “phase” that I had while being away for awhile.

 

My mind raced as I imagined them all meeting at once. My nervousness, Castiel’s reassurance even though he’d probably be more nervous than me. Him shaking my father’s hand, trying not to break eye contact. His goofy smile when Sam said something about “not hurting my older brother or I’ll kill you”, even when Sam kind of meant it. A sit down dinner at the old wooden dining room table that had bills scattered about, and Castiel holding my hand under the table. I imagined all the little details and what may be discussed while my father pressed Cas for answers about his upbringing and what he did for a living. 

 

These thoughts suddenly disappeared when the song Hey Jude by the Beatles came on the radio. The beginning was all too familiar and my stomach dropped as I watched Cas turned it up a little bit, and suddenly the rush of dread and anxiety rushed through me even harder. I pulled my hand away from his and clicked the volume button to mute it. 

 

“I don’t like that song.” I mutter, trying to push the thoughts I didn’t wanna think about away. Cas bit his lip, smiling a little. 

 

He thought I was messing around, and proceeded to turn the radio back onto the song.

 

The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better

 

Now I was suddenly very angry and turned to him. 

 

“I said I don’t fucking like it, Castiel.” I press mute once more and that was the end of any conversation. I sensed he was upset at the way I talked to him, but the memories of that song just sent me into a frenzy.

The drive seemed endless afterward. Eventually, when we pulled into the vineyard entrance, Cas spoke up.

 

“I didn’t know you genuinely didn’t like it.” He almost whispered.

 

“I know. I’m sorry for being so mean. I just… memories. Just drop it.” 

 

He pulls up to my hut. I spot Charlie outside talking to the burly old man that lives beside her. He seemed to notice her gaze as she watches the car come to a halt. I turn to Cas, trying not to be awkward.

 

“I guess I’ll see you later?”

 

“You know where I’ll be.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss me. We pecked lips quickly and I could hear Charlie’s squeal from where I sat. I muttered a simple goodbye, and got out of the Mercedes. I avoided eye contact with everyone and rushed to my front door, but Charlie wouldn’t let me pass. 

 

“You two kissed?!”

 

“More than once.” I mumble, still hearing Hey Jude’s tune in my head. I wanted time to myself and I didn’t want questions. I couldn’t be mean to Charlie, of course, I had to bite my lip and tell her how I needed to shower and how I’d be over at hers later. She smiled and retorted something about “juicy details” and let me enter my home. 

 

When the door closed behind me I breathed out a sigh of relief. I plop down on my bed and put my face in my hands, trying to not feel guilty about how I talked to Castiel. I felt as I ruined everything and he probably thinks I’m the explosive kind of angry. It actually took a lot to get me fired up, but some simple memories and actions piss me off very quickly. 

 

I take off my shirt beside suddenly I was sweating and my heart was racing. I lay in bed and wonder wherever my mom was- I hope she was somewhere and looking down on me smiling proud that her son was trying his best to be what she would’ve wanted. 

 

“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain.” I say to myself. Or maybe her. Both seem comforting, just between us.


	8. Downhill From Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not posting in forever. enjoy this set up for the rest of the story. x

Castiel’s POV

 

 

It took 2 weeks. 2 weeks for me to absolutely fall in love with Dean Winchester and all his beautiful flaws.

 

When he wasn’t working, we would take small trips around town and lay around in bed. He and I had inside jokes, stupid nicknames, and tons of make out sessions. I felt myself falling head over heels when he asked to drive the car to the drive-ins last weekend and when I agreed, I watched him focused on the road and I couldn’t help but think about how imperfectly perfect he was. The freckles that lined his nose, his kissable pink lips, his long eyelashes that would flutter when he noticed me staring. I didn’t know I could love a single person like I loved him. It scared me and excited me all at once.

 

I knew he’d be my subject and that this would all somehow work itself out.

 

Young love- I learned- with two very flawed humans, seemed to be exciting and beautiful in the movies, but in real life we did have our moments. Last night we argued about how I almost hit someone on our way to town. Dean accused me of going too fast and that was a bad driver. I didn’t take this lightly, of course. So we argued all the way to the restaurant we were eating at. Once I pulled in the parking spot, the argument became the silent treatment. We just sat there in complete silence and wondered why we were even fighting.

 

After 5 minutes he spoke up, “Let’s not fight anymore. I’m hungry and you look too adorable not to show off.”

 

We then made up by making out for 2 brief moments and then ate ourselves senseless over talks of music and the vineyard.

 

Somehow Dean revealed me to myself. I felt myself loving the person looking back at me in the mirror. The happy- almost radiating- man who loved immensely and was loved back.

 

Dean hadn’t said he loved me but I knew he did. This sounds naive, and maybe it is, but I felt like he didn’t say it, he just assumed I knew it. There was something in his eyes that made me feel like I was all that ever mattered to him. This was an overstatement of course- he loved his brother and his father, but he loved me differently.

 

Today, I am standing by my window watching him stack the crates until the phone rings. I rush over to it and barely miss the last ring.

 

“Castiel-”

 

“Dad, hey, hello.” I clear my throat, “How’s the work trip?”

 

“I’m coming back to the vineyard. I will be taking over again and you can head back to New York.” He said it so quickly that when the line was silent, it was only because it hadn’t registered.

 

“Castiel?”

 

“Yeah, I’m here… but I’m not going back to New York.”

 

I can almost hear the annoyance in his voice, “You have a job and an apartment there, Castiel. You’re going back and you’re going to finish that God forsaken book your publisher keeps bugging me about. You know work always comes first.”

 

I want to scream at him, but I find myself nodding. “Alright. See you later.”

 

I hang up without another word, and toss my phone onto my bed. The gravity of the situation just settling in. I glance out the window and see Dean and Charlie giggling and joking around. I half heartedly smile, already planning out how I was going to tell Dean I was leaving. I knew my father was right. I had to go back to reality that was neglecting for so long. I didn’t want to see my old scene of friends- they were drunks and pot smokers. I didn’t miss that small suffocating apartment in lower Manhattan that made me seem too indie for my own good.

 

I take a sharp breath when I hear a knock at the door. I run to it, opening it quickly. I see Kevin there with a saddened expression. I notice his shaky hands and a shortened breaths. He looked like he ran a mile just to talk to me.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

I let him in and he paces as I shut the door.

 

“I just received a phone call from the Winchester household. They couldn’t get ahold of Dean so they called me. Something… awful has happened to Dean’s father and I thought I should tell you since you’re close to him and he may have to leave.”

 

Suddenly I don’t think about New York, or my publisher, or my father. I nod for him to continue.

 

“He’s… he’s dying. He was in a severe car accident and it seems like Dean is the only one who can legally look after his 16 year old brother, Sam. The social worker who called said that he needed to get to the Lawrence Hospital as soon as possible.”

 

“Why are you telling me this again?!”

 

“You’re the boss and I am scared of Dean a little and I was thinking…”

 

“You want me to tell him his father is dying?!”

 

“Yes,” Kevin pauses, “I have to get back to work. I’ll send him up. Act like I didn’t know.”

 

With that he runs out of the room. My mind couldn’t wrap my head around all these things suddenly thrown my way.

 

Before I could even think of the words to say to Dean, I hear his hard knuckles against my door and I jump.

 

“Come in!”

 

He smiles as he walks in, not knowing exactly what I’ll be discussing.

 

“Hey babe,” He notices my conflicted expression, “Everything alright.”

 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

 

He stared at me confused, but suddenly realized something was up.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

All I could do was nod. How do you tell the love of your life that his last parent was dying and he only had a short time to say goodbye. My throat began to tighten.

 

“I’m sorry Dean…” I pause, “Your father was in an awful accident, he’s not gonna make it. You need to go home.”

 

His face shows all sort of emotions at once. At first he must’ve thought I was kidding because he kind of let out a soft laugh, then noticing I wasn’t kidding, his face scrunched.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I’m so sorry,” I watch him try to hold it together but suddenly he showed fury and sadness by kicking my wall. I didn’t even care that there was now a hole in the wall, as I watched him then come towards me and fall into me. I just held him, knowing that this was all I could do- care for him. I didn’t say anything, just let him cry into my shoulder and stood completely still.

 

After 2 minutes he pulled away, reddened face.

 

“I need to call Sam. I need to leave now.”

 

“I’ll take you if you want. I don’t want you to be alone.” I didn’t even think about what I was saying, it just slipped from my mouth. Dean shook his head.

 

“Stay here and work. I am not sure I’ll be back. I’ll just get a cab and then when… when I’m ready I’ll come get my things.”

 

I accepted his wishes with a nod, “I’ll call you a cab and pack you a bag if you want to stay here and make a few calls.”

 

He nodded and I handed him my phone and began on my way down to his hut. I was shaking and I knew everyone was staring at me. When I passed the warehouse, Charlie ran towards me asking if everything was alright. I just shook my head and kept walking.

 

Who knew everything could just be completely turned upside down within an hour? My whole life will be different after these couple of hours. Dean wasn’t the only one packing a bag to head home- I would have to do the same thing once my father arrived.

 

I opened up Dean’s hut, and his musk instantly hit my nostrils. I inhale, taking it all in as if I’d never get to smell it again. I search for a duffel bag before finding one in his closet. I throw in a couple of shirts and jeans I always see Dean wear. I find his underwear drawer and just throw things in. I pile his shaving and brushes in the side pocket of the bag and throw two pairs of boots in the bag as well. I zip it up before I rush for the door. But something catches my eye and I look at the dresser that sat right by the door. A small picture of a little boy- about 4 years old- and beautiful blond woman with a bright smile. They were sitting on a old wooden porch outside a small home. I knew this had to be Dean and his mother (I knew his green eyes from 10 miles away) and I couldn’t look away.

 

Dean never talked about his mother and I didn’t know why. I talked to him a couple times about my manipulative mother and how I didn’t talk to her anymore after she missed every important event in my life. She was working nonstop and she chose it over me all the time. My father did the same, but he managed to celebrate my accomplishments. That’s one of the many reasons why I don’t want to fail him or take advantage of everything he’s given me.

 

I finally open the door to leave. I see Charlie running towards me, literally making dust come up from going so fast.

 

“What’s going on?!”

 

“Dean’s leaving. His father is…”

 

“His father is what?”

 

“Dying! Okay Charlie?! Just move.”

 

I brush past her and instantly knew the way I talked to her was disrespectful and uncalled for. I felt her eyes burn into the back of my shirt.

 

“He was my friend first, Asshole!”

 

I stop in my tracks and turn to her, “I know.”

 

“So, I have a right to know about these things.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And-”

 

“I know Charlie! Okay? I am about to call him a cab to leave. Do you want to see him before he goes?!”

 

She didn’t say anything, just shook her head positively and trailed after me in silence. I handed her the bag when we got inside and told her where to go. I go down to the kitchen and find the phone. I watch Marco stare at me curiously. I find the phone book, flipping through to find a taxi service that sounded not-so-shady. I call one and they said they’d be here in 20 minutes. I thank them and tell them I’ll be paying with my credit card. They take my number and I head back upstairs.

 

Dean sits on my bed with Charlie crying into her chest. She holds him and rubs circles into his back. I didn’t say anything, just stood there watching them. Once Dean looked up, he whispers something to Charlie. She kisses his cheek and then leaves the room. It was just me and tear-soaked Dean.

 

“I called you the cab. They will be here soon.”

 

“Thank you, I-I uh, I don’t know what’s going to happen with us.”

 

I smile, “Don’t worry about it. Just know I’m always here for you. Always.”

 

“I’m so sorry about this troubl-”

 

“Don’t even think about apologizing. This isn’t trouble, this is life and you need to be with your family. And you will be soon. Don’t worry about me, or work, or anything.”

 

He envelops me in a tight hug, holding my whole body in his arms. I hold his neck in my hand and start to tear up- knowing this was going to be goodbye for awhile.

 

Dean Winchester changed me. He made me think differently and now we would be separate for an unspecified time and that scared the shit out of me. I was thinking ignorantly, of course, thinking about when we reconnect, will it be the same? But this shouldn’t be about me, but it pegged my mind as we stood there so close, in complete silence.

 

I tried my best to push these thoughts aside and think and pray for Mr. Winchester and Sam and Dean. The Winchesters seemed plagued with bad happenings, but so did the Novaks.

 

"I love you, Cas."

 

Without thinking twice I mutter, "I love you more, D."

 

I just knew somehow this would be the end for awhile.


End file.
